The Passing Days
by Profilore
Summary: Post-canon. Ed wants to marry Winry and find a well-paying job to support a big family. He also wants to quit military service. Unfortunately, furer Grumman is not ready to let him go just yet, and the path to civilian life is fraught with unexpected obstacles. Like, for example, needing a high school diploma.
1. Chapter 1

The Promised day passed. Then another day, and another, and another. Days, then weeks, then months.

Ed got the remaining metal taken out of his shoulder. He and Al spend some time recovering at the central hospital. Then they left for Risenbool, and Ed received the tightest hug in his life courtesy of Winry. Then he watched Alphonse try his first piece of apple pie in five years.

That's what real happiness feels like, Ed thought. I want more of that shit, he thought.

He proposed to Winry just a week later. He should have probably waited a bit longer, got a nice ring and all that, but he got impatient. She was beautiful, she has waited long enough for him, also, a guy was looking funny at her ass that day on the market. So Ed clenched his courage into a fist, got onto one knee and begged like the unworthy piece of garbage he really was. For some weird reason she said yes. Then she whacked him on the head for being a possessive jerk and glaring the poor salesman into submission.

When they told Al, his smile was so big Ed could see his wisdom teeth.

Everything was finally right in Ed's world. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to marry Winry and have a big family with her. He wanted to find a nice, stable, well-paying job, preferably one that will let him stay at home most of the time. He wanted to quit the military.

Ed should have realized life is never that easy.

"I need a what?"

"A diploma, Ed. A high school diploma, at the very least. Probably a university diploma for the kind of job you want."

He and Havoc (whose legs were in perfect working order again) were sitting at an outdoor cafe. When Ed arrived in central, Havoc was the one who volunteered to greet him. Ed intended to visit Mustang later that day, but the newly promoted Lieutenant General was a difficult person to reach, so Havoc was there to make sure Edward would not be turned away by a frazzled secretary.

Their conversation had inevitably drifted to plans for the future, and Havoc never missed a chance to yank Ed's head out of the clouds.

"Why the fuck would I need one? I never needed it before. Isn't it obvious that I'm qualified? I'm a state alchemist, for truth's sake!"

"Well Ed, that might have been true while you were in the military, but civilian jobs don't work like that. Why do you think I worked at my parents' store? I was an officer for years, too, but I never got a higher education, so I couldn't just take any job I wanted. I tried to apply to a few places, but they all turned me down, and not just because I was in a wheelchair."

"Well, damn. I'm sorry. That must have sucked."

"It's not like it was a bit deal. I hadn't expected to suddenly recover, mind, but it worked out in the end. Got you guys some weaponry when you needed it, so it was worth it."

"Yea, you rock. General bastard would've been toast without you."

"Thanks, kid."

"Shit, I'm not a kid any more, am I? Could you quit that? Also, can we get back to the topic? I still think you're full of shit. The state alchemist watch is better than a freaking high school diploma."

"It is, but only if you have one. And while you have the watch, you can't find another job anyway. Can't work a civvy job while you're in the military, Ed, it's not allowed."

"I realize that. I'm not going to need the actual watch, though. I'll just need some sort of confirmation that I was a state alchemist. I'll just get Mustang to write me a note or something."

"Yea, right. Just imagine what it would look like to your potential boss. Some kid comes to an interview claiming that he was the famous Fullmetal Alchemist, but the kid has no watch and wants you to believe him because of a note allegedly signed by the furer's favorite Lieutenant General? Oh, and his famous automail arm has mysteriously disappeared? Sorry, Ed, but I really don't think a note will cut it."

"They can just call the bastard if they don't believe me."

"No, they can't. He is not just a colonel any more, don't forget. He won't be taking those calls, not personally, and you can't guarantee the person who will doesn't hate your guts for some reason. We have a lot of enemies in the ranks right now. Not everyone liked the change in leadership, not everyone believes that the homunculi tried to turn us all into a chili hot dog for easy consumption, not to mention all the people who just plain don't like the waves Mustang's been making."

Ed glared at his tea. Havoc was a troll, of course, but he was not an asshole, so he wouldn't joke about this stuff. No dice, then.

"Hey, chief, don't get discouraged. You've done so many amazing things already, what's a year of high school gonna do to you? It's not like you'll be tortured by the teachers."

"With my luck? Are you sure about that?"

Actually, Ed wasn't worried about the teachers at all. No high school teach could come close to the Izumi Curtis level of strictness.

There was another factor in this unholy equation that Ed didn't want to touch with a long pole.

_Teenagers._

Mustang was in a meeting. Of course he was. Probably sleeping in his chair with his eyes open, the lazy bastard. Ed was all for the changes the man was making under Grumman's nose, but he wouldn't believe in a million years that Mustang would ever take the paper-pushing part of his job seriously. He knew him better than that.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the aging Furer entered Mustang's office, where Ed was waiting on his favorite couch. Ed jumped to his feet and saluted.

"Furer Grumman!"

"Fullmetal. At ease, young man, I'm happy to see you. How is your brother?"

"He's great, sir. Almost completely back to normal."

"Hmm, glad to hear it. I'm guessing you're here to hand in your resignation? You were rather vocal about it after the Promised day, but then you left town so abruptly…"

"You're right on the money, sir."

"Let us sit down and have a talk, then. I have a few minutes to spare right now. I came down to consult your superior about a few things, but since he's not here yet…"

Grumman took Mustangs chair. Something in Ed did not like that, but he didn't let on and sat down facing him.

"Are you really sure you want to resign, Edward? If you stay for just a few more years, you might find yourself looking at a nice pay raise. I'm not about to deprive you of your title either, alchemy or no alchemy. I think you can still do some good for your country, just where you are."

"Yes, sir, I'm very sure. I think you must know by now why I joined in the first place, and it had nothing to do with serving the country. Fighting the homunculi made me realize that in the end, I am just a selfish human, and I want this chapter of my life to be over. With all due respect, sir, military life is not my cup of tea."

"Hmm, yes, yes, I see, well, that's too bad. When you are released from service, my army will be losing a very talented and brave officer. No need to look at me like that, Edward, I'm not going to try and talk you out of following your dreams. God knows you deserve some peace after what you've done for us all. I'm not so depraved as all that."

"Thank you, sir."

"However…"

Ed tensed.

"I'm not above asking a personal favor. You see, I'm in a rather precarious position these days. Most of the old brass were in on the conspiracy, and the new generals were never truly tested. I know that not one of the people I promoted had been a traitor before Promised Day, but sadly that is no guarantee that some of them wouldn't sell us out to Drachma at the first opportunity. The untried, green generals make the lower ranks nervous, and not in a good way. There has been more insubordination notices added to the archives in these last few months than in the last three years before that. People had just seen one successful coup, and that might inspire a man to think that another might be just as successful."

Ed listened with a mounting sense of dread.

"Not everything is lost, of course. A few major factions hold the current situation in balance. There are many amongst the ranks who genuinely believe in our cause. Then, there are those who simply like their jobs enough that they will not risk them. But there's another category of soldier that can become a problem at a moment's notice – those people who only hold their ambitions in check for fear of being destroyed by the same fist that cut through a god-like being like a hot knife through melting butter."

Ed paled.

"I see that you understand. Now, believe me, I'd like nothing better than to graciously accept your resignation right here, right now. However, it is my sincere belief that by doing that I might as well sign my own death sentence, as well as a few others'. Which is why I'm going to make you an offer."

Grumman got up and walked around the table to stop in front of Ed. He put a hand on Ed's shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. Not looking away was a struggle – the old man's gaze was making all the little hairs on Ed's body stand on alert.

"Stay in the military for one more year. Don't mention your intention to resign to any of the brass. Don't let on that you don't practice alchemy any more. Make an appearance at a few celebratory or ceremonial events. Show your full support of your current superiors. Let the officers enjoy having a hero amongst their ranks. I will not require anything else of you. You won't even have to do any actual military work if you are disinclined. And after that, I'll sign off on your resignation, no strings attached. I'll even overlook that nonsensical rumor about human transmutation that's been going around. What do you think, young man? Does this sound like something you can do for me?"

Ed gulped down the nausea steadily building in his throat and nodded.

"Good! Then we have an understanding. Well, it seems to me that your reasons for visiting the Lieutenant General are not terribly urgent any more. Why don't you take a nice, refreshing walk in the sun instead! It's such a beautiful day outside. Shame that I can't join you."

The Furer patted Ed on the head like a docile dog and turned to leave. Ed didn't move, feeling completely frozen in place.

"And one last thing…"

Ed turned. The old bastard was smiling.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant Colonel. We can expect great things from you, I'm sure."

Ed took Grumman's advice for the order is was and left without talking to anyone in the building. He walked for a while, letting the early summer sunlight soak into his bones and chase away the chills brought on by the ominous conversation.

Here he was again, getting sidetracked right before the finish line. Time to stop expecting miracles to fall into your hands, Ed. There is no such thing as a good philosopher's stone. There is no such thing as free happiness either. Quit your childish whining. Get a grip and get moving. The day's still young.

He found a phone booth and called Granny's house. He talked to Al, then asked for Winry and asked her how soon she can move to central. She didn't appreciate his assumption that she'd move anywhere at all. They yelled at each other, as was their usual way of resolving any kind of serious disagreement. In the end, they decided that she and Al would wait for Ed to get an apartment in the city. Ed promised to call again soon and hung up, already feeling exhausted. It was still early afternoon.

Procrastinating on the need to look for a hotel for the next few days, Ed kept walking. He caught a quick lunch at an outdoor food vendor and wandered, letting his mind process as his legs took him wherever.

Central was a big city. It was messy, chaotic, and loud, but Ed had to admit that in a way, that appealed to him. He was still a country boy at heart, but a being in a big city like Central let something deep inside of him loosen up. He felt insignificant, ordinary. Just one little piece of the puzzle consistent of millions. No one paid him any attention here, and he was free, for once, to let go of his awareness and just… be.

His eyes found a school building. It was not really obvious, Ed wouldn't have noticed it if not for a large notice board on the front door.

They were inviting people to sign up their kids early, before the start of the next school year. Ed tried the door not really expecting anything, it was June after all. It was open.

The foyer was large, but the celling wasn't as high as he was used to expecting from official buildings. The paint job on the inside was atrocious, loud green and pealing in places. A single tired-looking receptionist, a young woman, was sitting behind a beaten-looking desk before the staircase.

"Hello, are you a student? The school's not in session, if you want to retake an exam, you'll have to come back in September." She sounded so rehearsed that Ed had to wonder, just how many failing students can one small school have?

"No. At least not yet. I've just realized that I need to enroll somewhere to officially finish my last year, but I have no idea what kind of school this is. Would you mind telling me a bit about it?"

The judging, tired expression on the woman's face disappeared all at once. Probably bored out of her mind, Ed guessed.

"Of course! We specialize in phys-math education, but we offer all kinds of classes, including art, music and theater. Do your guardians know what they want you to study more in-depth?"

"I'm my own guardian, actually." While Mustang had been his official guardian for the first few years, once he turned fourteen Ed filed for emancipation, and the committee couldn't exactly deny that he made enough money to support himself, so they granted it.

The receptionist gave him an uncertain, measuring look.

"Well, what would you like to study, then? Are you more inclined to math, arts, or humanities?"

"I already know math, and I've been told I have no taste for art, so probably the last one."

The woman rolled her eyes at that first part. Ed wanted to tell her that he was an alchemist and certainly knew more about the precise sciences than whatever teachers this school might hire, but held his tongue at the last second. No need to be a show off to a stranger.

"Well, we do offer a great course focusing on Literature, Languages and History. Why don't you take a pamphlet," she handed his a small, four-page booklet, "and call the Enrolment office if you like it?"

Ed thanked her and left before she could decide to read him another rehearsed advertising speech.

A few months passed, and Ed, Al and Winry settled quietly into city life. The strangest part for Ed was probably buying his own furniture for the apartment. He had no idea what to choose, so he left it to Winry's discretion. She chose a lot of weird stuff Ed wasn't totally sure about, but the double bed for their bedroom was nice, so he didn't mind too much.

Al had gotten exponentially better during the summer. He was starting to get a tan, and his face was filing out nicely. Winry made sure to make him eat at least three full meals a day, so he didn't look like a walking skeleton anymore. The part Ed enjoyed the most about that was that he could finally hug his brother without something sharp poking him in the ribs.

When the leaves started turning red in the last week of august, Winry's finally had enough of his moping and made him call the number on the pamphlet, so there Ed was, in a phone booth a block away from the apartment, waiting for the call to get through.

"Enrollment Office, Central High school #15. Good morning, what can I help you with?" a nice sounding woman's voice answered finally.

"Hello. I'm… uh… looking to enroll. What should I do?"

"What can I call you, mister?.."

"Elric. Edward Elric."

"Great. Well, Mr. Elric, if you want to enroll, you need permission from your guardian first."

"I have it. What next?"

"Next you gather your portfolio and collect your papers from the last place of schooling. Once you bring them to the office, we can compare the curriculum and make you a schedule. Once we are sure your papers are in order, we'll send your guardians a bill, and then you can join your new class on September the first."

"… What kind of papers and portfolio do I need, exactly?"

"First and foremost, your marks from last year. Your previous school should have a complete list of your last completed year, with all the exams you passed. We need to see it to ensure you are at the appropriate level for the year you're applying for. Then, there is the attendance and discipline records, you'll get those at the student's office at your old school too. We'll also need your citizen's ID number and a statement from the bank where your parents keep a sum that's going to be enough to pay for however many years you're going to study with us. Those are the necessary documents.

For the portfolio, you can bring any kind of awards you've received for academic achievements, arts or sports. Anything will do as long as it's documented and can be confirmed. The more you have, the greater your chances to be accepted."

Awesome. It wasn't even a sure deal.

"So, how many people are competing for a spot in your school this year? For year 10?"

"About six kids for one spot."

"I see. Well, thank you for the Info."

"You're very welcome, Edward. I hope to see you at the office soon. If you've made the decision to enroll here, you'll need to hurry though, the deadline for application is 27th, less than a week away."

"Yea, got it, thanks again."

He hung the receiver with more force then necessary. The guy waiting to use the booth jumped at the sound, and Ed glared at him on his way out.

Having exhausted all his other options (Winry, Al and Pinaco didn't know what to do either) Ed did what everyone on Mustang's team had done at least once is a situation outside of their sphere of competence.

He went looking for Breda.

The man was still working under Mustang as a first lieutenant, technically, but his strategical thinking had earned him his own office in the new military structure.

Ed came barging right in, as was his custom. Breda, who had gotten unused to it in the time since he and Ed were part of the same office, choked on his sandwich.

"Hey, Breda! Long time no see!"

The man looked at him wearily, but waved for him to sit down, still coughing.

"Sorry I startled you. Are you busy? Can't remember the last time I saw you eating near paperwork. I though Hawkeye relieved you of that habit after you smeared ketchup on Mustangs report that was three days past due already?"

"… Hi Ed. Yea, I'm drowning in work. There are about a thousand reports to analyze and re-categorize."

"Shit. Are those all pre-Promised Day?"

"You got it kid. We need to evaluate just how much damage those bastards did under our noses. Sadly, that means redoing the work that took them years in just a few month and then some."

"Ok, now I feel really bad about bothering you. Do you want me to leave?"

"Nah. I was eating anyway. Why did you want me, kid?"

"I've got a bit of a problem. I thought maybe you'd know how to start solving it."

"Let's have it."

"I need to go to high school to get a diploma, but I have no school certificate. I haven't gone since I was eight."

Breda, who was in the middle of taking a long sip of his chilled tea, almost choked again. At first Ed thought it was just surprise, but then Breda swallowed and Ed realizes that the weird sounds he was making? That was laughter. He was laughing at him. The fucker. Ed glared, and the man finally raised his hands in surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh at your problems. It's not like I was laughing at you, I was just caught off guard. It never even occurred to me that you never finished school."

He took a few deep breaths and looked back at Ed, this time looking exactly like he did three years ago, down to the knowing smirk.

"Well, let's see… there are only a few things you can do, I suppose. You can either go and finish middle school first," Ed glared again, and the man's smirk became even more lopsided and annoying, "or you can go to the school without the docs and ask to take the necessary exams right there. If you pay for the semester in advance, they will probably allow it."

"Wait, you can do that? Then why didn't they tell me that on the phone?"

"I don't think they would have known to. It's usually not necessary, most students would already have the exam results from their old school. I only know about it because I have a cousin who was really sick. She was homeschooled until the last year, not too different from you in that respect."

"Nice. I mean, not about your cousin…"

"I get it, never mind. So, did I help your problem?"

Ed smiled at Breda, offering the man the first, in their shared experience, right-handed handshake. Then Breda saluted him. Ed froze. The fuck?

"Don't be so surprised, kid. I never got to thank you for exposing the homunculi and saving our asses on the Promised Day, that's all."

Relaxing, Ed smiled again and saluted right back.

"Thank you, Heymans."

The man raised an eyebrow, but didn't correct him. Good.

"I got to go, need to get those papers ready now. See you soon?"

"Sure thing. Come whenever. Anyone from the old team would be glad to catch up with you. And say hi to Alphonse for me."

Even before he walked into the Enrollment office, Ed knew it was going to be a small disaster.

After the last few days of pure chaotic scrambling and panicking while trying to put together something resembling a resume (which is what, as he found out, a portfolio was, only for school), he was feeling at least somewhat prepared. Better then he'd felt about any of his state license assessments, anyhow.

At least the money wasn't an issue just yet. His years in the military, in the duration of which his only real expenses were gifts for Winry and automail rush order fees (also, for Winry), allowed him to amass enough savings that the three of them will probably be able to get through the year without having to work a day, as well as pay for his formal education. He was still getting paid as his rank afforded, actually, but he hasn't checked his salary account since that talk with Grumman, so he had no idea how much.

Ed knocked and the voice he recognized from the phone conversation invited him in. The office was a bit cramped, but at least it looked better cared for then the rest of the school. There were only three people working in the room, two of them women. One of them, the older blonde wearing nice black-rimmed glasses, waived him over, so he let himself fall into the closest chair.

"Good morning. Are you applying for this year?"

"Yes. Hi."

"Oh, you and I talked already, a few days ago, Edward, right? Call me Mrs. Summers."

"I'm surprised you remembered. You must get at least ten calls like that in a day, with the school's popularity."

"I do, but I don't often get to talk to the kids, it's usually the parents who arrange everything. By the way, are your guardians waiting at the door? Please invite them in. I'm going to need a few parental signatures…"

"I'm fully emancipated, mam."

Mrs. Summers frowned at him, just as the receptionist did two months ago. Edward was starting to resign himself to the possibility that this kind of reaction will probably be the standard once he reintegrates into civilian life. Normal Joes weren't exactly used to dealing with people like Ed.

"May I see your Id and a confirming paper, please?"

Ed passed her the requested items. As the woman read, her eyebrows started slowly climbing up.

"Emancipation on the basis of independent income… Oh, your parents must have fallen into hard times, right?"

"No. My parents are both dead."

She covered her face with a free hand, closing her eyes in apparent mortification.

"I'm so sorry. I have no idea what made me say something so tactless."

"It's alright. You couldn't have known. They aren't mentioned in the papers."

She sighed and looked over his Id. Ed caught the exact moment when her eyes found the military seal.

"Why a state military Id? Didn't your hometown have a civilian office?"

Risenbool did have one, though the locals usually did not bother, since everyone knew everyone anyway. Instead of explaining that, Ed just handed Mrs. Summers another paper. It was his state alchemist license.

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes made at least three passes to his face, to his ID, then to the License and back again. Ed sighed and decided not to waste any more time. Leaning closer, so as not to disturb the other two people, he said quietly:

"Listen, you might have heard of me. Fullmetal Alchemist? Thing is, I don't practice any more, for personal reasons, and I'm going to need another job once I resign. I haven't been to any school since I was eight. Frankly, school was a bit slow for my brother and me. We studied at home and then found a private tutor. I could pass all the final exams for precise sciences right now if you asked me to. I'm not as good at the rest, but I'm sure catching up on whatever I've missed won't take more than a year. I have no actual school records to show you, but if you give me a chance, you won't regret it."

The poor woman was completely lost. She stared at him for a few moment as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.

Ed rolled his eyes and silently put the rest of his papers on her desk. There was his (declassified) military record, containing rank, achievements and duties performed. There was his state license acquisition and confirmation record. There was a list of his academic papers, the most recent of which came out just before he came back from Risenbool on the topic of perceived and real differences of the energy sources used in alchemy and alkahestry. Finally, Ed took his watch out of his pocket and used it as a paperweight.

"I'm gonna get a cup of coffee while you look these over, alright? Be back in an hour."

He snatched the watch off the table on his way out.

He passed the entrance exams with flying colors. The call from Enrollment to their apartment complex came just as Ed was getting ready to go and visit Hues's grave, on morning of the 28th.

He returned home for a minute to share the news, and got two rib-bruising hugs for his trouble.

When he got to the graveyard, he was happy to see there was no one hovering in the vicinity. The day was promising to be rainy and cold, so even those poor souls who needed to visit their loved ones right this moment were slowly trickling out of the gates, looking up at the dark gathering clouds. Ed didn't mind rainy days so much anymore, even if his thigh port and shoulder still ached. He realized now that most of the pain he felt in the past on days like this came not from his body, but from his mind, and that wound was finally healing.

"Hey, General Hues, guess what? I'm going back to school."

The wind was starting to pick up. The nearby trees moved in unison.

"I hadn't expected it either. Thought I was done with classrooms. Never say never, right?"

The mass of condensing water was creeping closer. First heavy droplets were hitting the grass, making the slim stalks bow with their weight.

"I always wanted to tell you something, you know? Even when you were still alive. But I was a coward about these kinds of things. Still am, to be honest. You'd laugh if you knew that I proposed to Winry long before actually confessing what I feel for her. I don't deserve her, really, after everything she's had to take from me. I don't deserve her, but I have her anyway. I'm blessed."

The rain was coming down faster now, not just a few drops here and there anymore. Edward realizes he can't get to the closest place with a roof without getting completely soaked first. He laughed.

"I'm trying to say that… Mustang, Gracia an Alicia are not the only ones who miss you like hell. To me you were…"

The water was coming down his face in streams. The back of his shirt was clinging to the skin, and the front was about the same. There was no getting out of the storm now.

"… more of a father then my actual dad. I didn't know you that long and yet…"

His shoes were full of water now. He was starting to shiver in the cooling wind.

"… and yet you are still the man I look up too, when I'm lost about what kind of human being…"

Thunder rolled in the distance.

"… what kind of dad I want to be for my family. So, I guess what I came here to say is…"

Lightning flashed, and Ed had to blink the glare out of his eyes.

"… Thank you, for everything. I'm moving forward."

There was quiet for a moment, and the only sounds in Ed's ears were of the torrential hitting the ground, and his own heartbeat, just as loud as the thunder, and just as brief in the greater whole.

"… Goodbye."


	2. Chapter 2

Getting ready for his first day of school in years felt… surreal, to say the least. Of course, there wasn't really much he needed to take with him. There wasn't going to be any real studying on the first day, so he needed no textbooks, just a notebook and a pen. Ed refused to be caught dead with a backpack, so he put those in a small over-the-shoulder satchel and covered it with his usual black coat. He was already wearing his new ring (he hasn't taken it off even once since he and Winry got them), but he checked anyway, just to be sure.

Winry hovered all morning. Honestly, it wasn't as if going to _school _was going to be dangerous or something! Why she had to make such a fuss over it, Ed'll never know. At least Al was still snoring, so it wasn't a joined effort. She even cooked him breakfast! It was a little burned at the edges, but Edward wasn't one to say no food, so he happily put it away. He pointedly didn't ask what it was supposed to be. See, he could learn.

Still, as he put one foot out the door, she called his name, and he turned.

"Have a good day, Ed. Good luck," she murmured, blushing. Truth, there was nothing in this world more beautiful than Winry's blush. The fact that he could provoke such reactions from her made his heart beat faster every time. He ran up to her and kissed her. It was as sweet as the very first time. In his heart, he knew it always would be.

"Thanks! See you later!"

When he arrived at the building, Ed was somewhat caught off guard by the new coat of paint on the façade and the clean windows. So they decided to renew the school a bit before the start of the year. Huh. The inside was still the same, though, so he sighed with disappointment and walked up to the reception, avoiding over-eager teenagers. He was a bit putout to find it manned by the same woman he met before. Wasn't she bored of the job?

"Hi, I'm new. Year ten. Where do I go?"

She looked away from her papers and at him, and her eyebrows rose.

"Hi! So you enrolled after all. Let me check if you're on the list. Name?"

"Edward Elric."

"Let's see… Yes, here you are. Year ten, class A, that's room 301. Go up the staircase, it's the first door from the wall on your left."

"Thanks."

The woman smiled warmly, and Ed waved at her as he turned away. Not always bored then, good to know.

There were guys and girls about his age waiting near the correct door. They weren't running around like crazy monkeys on drugs, so that was a relief. Another point of relief came upon Ed when he realized he wasn't the shortest guy here, not even close. Thank Truth for small mercies. Ed dusted off his coat and tried the door. It was, of course, locked.

His new classmates, Ed noticed, had already split up into groups.

He wondered which group he should join, if any. He's plenty fit and rich-looking, so those guys over to the right will probably not reject him, but did he really want to talk to them? No. They'd be talking about boring shit, like sports or girls or something. The other group were obviously all friends already, and Ed didn't want to intrude on their shit…

Luckily, before he could decide, the class door clicked and opened from the inside. Ed was the first to go in.

The room was nothing special. The walls were a pleasant grey-blue, with flowers hanging here and there in little brown pots. Three rows of desks, five in each, a teacher's desk up front and three large windows bathing the room in morning sunlight.

A middle-aged woman with sand-colored hair, a little round at the middle, was standing before the blackboard. She waved him in.

Ed put his bag on the front desk in the middle row and waited as the rest of the class filed in. A couple people greeted the teacher, and she waived at them. Most of the class was probably attending for the second year, which made sense. Nobody took the seat beside him, and Ed was relieved.

As the noise of many people moving slowly ceased, the teacher cleared her throat and smiled at them. She had kind eyes.

"Hello, students! As some of you already know, I'm missis Clemens, and I'm your homeroom teacher."

Ed heard chairs scraping the floor, and realized that the other kids had waited to be greeted before sitting down. Well, now he felt like an uncultured asshole.

"Today we will just do introductions, write down our schedules and try to get to know each other a bit."

She then read out their names from the roster, and even though he'd just heard them, Ed was sure he was already in the process of forgetting at least half of them. His name didn't provoke much reaction from the class, as far as he could tell without turning around like a dumbass, but the teacher stumbled a bit as she read it and gave him a weird look. Did she recognize him? Wonderful.

Then she made the new kids tell the class about themselves. Ed was glad he wasn't the first to be called. He would've probably rattled out his name, rank and registration number, like on one of those torture and interrogation drills. At least this way he had an idea of what he should talk about.

"Edward Elric?"

Ed stood up and turned to face the tables, taking cue from the previous victims.

"Hi, I'm Ed. I'm sixteen. I was born in a small town in the east. My family is all dead aside from my younger brother. I'm engaged and currently have a demanding job, so I'm probably not going to join any extracurriculars or clubs. My hobbies are… Well, I guess I don't have any." Alchemy didn't count, right?

Silence. Ed didn't get it, he talked about the same stuff everyone else did, he just didn't spend an extra few minutes bragging about how nice his parents were and who he wanted to be when he finishes school, since he hasn't figured it out yet. Why were they staring at him now?

"Khm, well. Nice to meet you, Ed. You can… sit down now."

He took a deep breath, repressing the impulse to salute. You're not in HQ, and she'd not a superior officer giving orders, calm the fuck down, he told himself firmly.

The teacher then made them play a few weird games. One of them included complimenting the next person in the roster after you (Ed told Milly Foster that she looked kind of like a Xingian princess, since she really looked a bit like May to him. She blushed and the other boys laughed at him). The guy before him (Jayme Cofer? Coher? Cother? Something weird like that) said that Ed's hair was pretty smooth for a guy. Ed was secretly pleased, even though the other kids laughed at that, too.

For the last ten minutes, Mrs. Clemens asked them to write down a list of their goals for the next year. Ed's list was maybe a bit shorter than others' were.

The bell rang, and Ed flinched, reminding himself, again, that he wasn't at HQ, and the shrill sound wasn't the mobilization drill. He was about to follow the kids outside for the recess, when the teacher put a soft palm on his shoulder.

"Edward? Can I have a word?"

She waited until everyone else wandered out, tapping a finger on her desk nervously. Then she raised her eyes, and Ed realized suddenly that she looked guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should have realized you'd have some trouble with the introductions. In the future, please feel free not to mention anything you're not comfortable discussing in class. I'm sorry about your family."

Oh. That explained the looks. Ed kept forgetting to tone it down for the civilians.

"It's ok, really. I'm not uncomfortable. It's cool."

Now she was giving him a concerned look. So, it was gonna be that kind of a conversation. Ed barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.

"I'll be honest with you, Edward, the enrolment office gave me a bit of a warning about you."

Well, shit.

"What was it about?" he asked, and tried not to sound as annoyed as he felt.

"It's just normal practice in this school, to help out our more vulnerable students. They didn't tell me anything personal, don't worry; just a bit about your family situation…"

Ed waited, with no idea what to say.

"I just wanted you to know that if you have any trouble here, anything at all, you can come talk to me about it. Anytime. And I mean anything. Academic or personal, I don't care."

She was looking at him, and her kind, almond-shaped eyes suddenly reminded him of Gracia Hues. A wave of biting guilt and sadness completely blindsided him.

"Edward? Did I say something wrong?" the teacher asked, reaching out to touch him again. He moved out of the way.

"Sorry, nothing," he said, wiping the pained grimace off his face. "Thanks. I need to wash my hands."

He walked out of the room before she could stop him.

As it turned out, the lists they made at the end of class were for reading aloud by someone else. Whoops. When Fillip Gardner read the part about not knocking up Winry before they get married, everyone laughed at him again, aside from Mrs. Clemens, who looked disapproving and amused at the same time.

"Would you like to tell us a bit about your brother or your fiancé, Edward? Only if you want to."

The others all talked about the things mentioned in the lists, so Ed saw no harm in it.

"Sure. My brother, Alphonse, is the best person in the world. I'm not kidding, he is," Ed insisted, to the increasing laughter all around. "He's kind, gentle and caring. Now that he's healthy again, he's become so popular, all the girls from the animal shelter he goes to keep following him home like they are the stray cats, I swear."

The laughter started again.

"Was he ill until recently? Is he ok now?"

"Yea, you could say that. He's completely back to normal now, though, thanks for asking."

"I'm very glad to hear it."

"Winry is a great person, too. She has a bit of a temper, though. We've known each other for ages, we were neighbors as kids. She always took care of Al and me when we needed it, and she really loves me."

"She sounds like an amazing young woman. Congratulations! Well, are you done, Fillip?"

Fillip didn't reply. He was staring at the paper.

"Fillip?"

The boy finally unfroze and read out, "Quit the military, go home. What do you mean military?"

"Ehm…"

Ed didn't know what to say. He didn't want to spill his whole life story to these kids, but it would be hard to deny the obvious.

"I mean exactly that. I've served, and now I'm going to leave."

Silence. Ed was already getting sick of those.

"Edward…" started Mrs. Clemens slowly, "You're sixteen…"

"Yes."

"How is it possible?"

"There were special circumstances that I'm not at liberty to disclose."

He wasn't even lying. It's not like he could just tell random strangers about committing human transmutation.

The rest of the class was awkward, and the kids kept sneaking glances at him that he could feel even with his back turned. After the bell, he was the first one out the door. Thankfully, the first day was only two periods, which meant he could go home and die of embarrassment in peace.

The first day of actual schooling came and went with no trouble, thankfully. A few teachers called on him in class, and he actually knew the answers for everything but literature. The lit-re teacher, Ms. Simpson, looked a bit disappointed that he knew nothing about her favorite novel, but since no one else in the class has read it either, Ed figured he could live with that.

By the end of the first week, Ed had encountered his first hurdle. Turns out, the students' notebooks were also used by the teachers to check their homework. Ed realized that he's been writing in his usual code the whole time. The habit was so strong, that he even coded his homework without thinking. Of course, that resulted in a few reprimands. The teachers now thought he was a troll, and he was, sure, but he had a better sense of humor than _that_. If he wanted to play a practical joke, he could have written his notes entirely in chemical symbols, for example. Or replaced all the "p"s with 3,14 and "e"s with 2,718.

Just a few days after that disaster, he realized that a few of the teachers weren't as nice and reasonable as they'd seemed at first.

Ed hasn't been to a detention for… possibly ever, actually, so he had no idea what to expect as he knocked on Mrs. Clemens' classroom door.

She invited him in and read Mr. Rover's note with a frown.

"Edward, could you explain to me why there's already been three complaints about your behavior?"

"Yea… Sorry about that. I guess I'm just having trouble adjusting…"

"I thought it might be something of that nature. Tell me more about this last incident, please. Mr. Rover tells me you were disruptive?"

"I don't think I was. Not on purpose. All I did was point out that our textbook is out of date."

Mrs. Clemens sighed.

"Is it, really?"

"Yea. There is a whole chapter on radioactive elements, but not a word about the health risks associated with handling them. There's been at least three extensive studies in the last decade proving that any radioactive material is a hazard, and I know the newer textbooks include this information."

"And why did you think it necessary to argue with your teacher about that?"

"Because I was concerned. What if he asks us to work with them in one of the next practical lessons? I know better than to treat dangerous chemicals carelessly, but my classmates wouldn't if they are not taught."

Mrs. Clemens asked to see the book and leafed though it for a time. Her frown grew deeper.

"I see. Well, I'm not a chemist or a physicist, so I can't say if you're right to be worried. I'll inform the administration about this and let them decide. However, it doesn't change the fact that you undermined the authority of your teacher during class, Ed. That is not acceptable behavior."

"I see. What's my punishment, then?"

"You'll need to stay in this classroom until six, or until you've completed all of your homework for the week, whichever comes first."

"And that's it?" Ed was stunned. That wasn't even a real punishment.

"Yes, of course. What were you expecting?"

"I donno. Teacher Isumi would've made me hold a handstand for an hour, probably."

"Isumi? Who is that?"

"Oh, sorry. She taught me and Al after we stopped going to normal school."

"Why would she make you do something so painful?" Mrs. Clemens asked, incredulous. "What kind of punishment is that?"

Ed realized that he really needed to learn to hold his tongue.

Ed got through the detention without getting sent to a mental institution, but only barely. Mrs. Clemens was so rightfully angry that she spend almost all twenty minutes of it ranting under her breath. Ed thought he heard something along the lines of "abusive" and "unbelievable", but he decided his time was better spent getting his assignments down as fast as humanly possible then defending someone who needed no defense. When he finished and showed her his work, his speed startled her, but after looking it over, she had to admit there was nothing more to be done, so he was finally free.

When he got home, there was a message for him at the front desk. Cursing his bad luck (today of all days, when he was held up at school, seriously), Ed changed fast and left again, thankful that Al and Winry weren't home to see him in such a hurry.

He ran up to the HQ, winded, and took the stairs three at a time on the way to Mustang's office. Riza was waiting for him at the door, and while Havoc, obviously standing guard, stared at him incredulously, she didn't even raise an eyebrow at his new look.

"Is he ok?" he panted.

"You're here, good. Yes, he's fine. Just a graze."

"What happened?"

"Treason. General Dunglar shot at the furer. Roy was at his side and tried to protect him."

Ed's insides grew cold.

"Tried?"

"Grumman is dead."

Oh, shit.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

"Take a deep breath, Edward. Look at me. Breath." Hawkeye's voice was calm and steady, and Ed let it pull him out of the chaotic vortex of his fears. He complied. The oxygen was very helpful.

"Shit. He's dead? Who's gonna replace him?"

"We don't know yet. We need all hands on deck right now. You'll join Roy's guard detail for the next two weeks."

Ed opened his mouth to refuse, he needed to be at school, he had to keep his attendance record clean, but then his brain conjured up Grumman's sharp gaze and 'fist cutting though a god-like being like a knife through butter' and a bullet hitting Mustang, red leaking from his chest… and he nodded sharply, instead.

"I've got you."

Riza looked at him in thankful relief. Of course, if he didn't know her, he might have thought it a look of murderous anticipation.

"Shit. I just realized… I'm gonna need a gun."

"You will. Come. I'll get you one."

Technically, Ed has been allowed to carry a firearm since he joined; but aside from a few desperate situations and mandatory exercises, he's never _had_ to. At first he was too inexperienced to use one properly, and by the time his shooting was up to snuff, Mustang and the rest of them already knew that he could take care of himself without one. Now he was truly unarmed for the first time, with no quick transmutations to give him whatever weapon he'd need, and even though carrying a gun still felt like a betrayal, he knew it was inevitable. That didn't mean he had to like it.

He signed the requisition form with a sweaty hand and took one off the supply shelf. He didn't take a holster. Instead, he checked the safety and put the thing in the inner coat pocket that existed, probably, just for that express purpose, now that he thought about it. Shit. Hopefully his famous disinclination to kill would give him some element of surprise anyway, if he needed to use it.

Riza nodded at him with approval and led him back to Mustang's office. They came in just as a harried-looking doctor was re-packing her bag. She left half-a-minute later, visibly relieved to get away from a target of possible assassination. Ed almost rolled his eyes at her back.

Mustang looked pale and tired, but his face was all grim determination. His right shoulder was covered with white bandages. He smiled when he saw them anyway.

"Long time, Edward. I'm sorry we don't have the time to catch up."

"When did we ever?" greeted Ed sarcastically, taking the man in. He had to admit he'd missed the bastard. Just a tad.

Not so much so, that he'd be glad to spend the next two weeks in his presence, though. That was going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

The first five days were the worst. Mustang had to be questioned, give an interview to the press, and then testify against Dunglar at the tribunal. Of course, Ed and Riza both had to be present for all of it. The man hadn't been working alone, no surprises there, and until his accomplices were rooted out, the lieutenant general was in ever-present danger. Ed had been running on nothing but coffee and fumes by the time investigations finally caught the second traitorous general, who admitted under interrogation that there were no more active threats among the brass.

Strangely enough, it wasn't Drachma but Creta that decided to exploit the weakness in the current Amestrian political climate to their advantage. The Amestrian embassy delegation was recalled immediately, and the threat of a new war was all but a visible miasma floating in the air with how Ed was about ready to choke on it.

Luckily, by the start of the next week the tensions were finally low enough that Riza decided to let him go. Ed had protested at first, unwilling to leave them, but Mustang took a good, long look at him and ordered him to "get some fucking sleep, Fullmetal. You're no help to anyone with those monstrous eye-bags". Ed sighed and admitted that he probably wasn't looking very threatening anymore.

After a whole week of catnaps on the spare cot in the supply room, the archives and the HQ dorms, taking off the stiff military regulation uniform and hitting the bed felt like pure heaven. When he woke up to find that Winry had crawled into his arms while he slept, Ed felt like the happiest man in the world. That is, until he remembered that it was a Monday, and he hasn't been to school in a week.

He groaned and tried to untangle himself from Winry without waking her, but that was a fruitless effort.

She kissed him first thing, hungry and desperate, and he forgot everything, melting into her embrace. Finally, she sighed into his mouth and poked him in the ribs.

"You need to go, Ed."

"I know." He made no move to get up. Winry smiled at him with sleepy mischief and Ed had just enough of a warning to jump away before she could push him off the bed entirely. Groaning regretfully, he abandoned the blankets and wandered to the bathroom.

After a quick shower, he looked at the clock above the kitchen table and realized that he'd miss the first period entirely, even if he hurried. He decided not to give a shit and went to wake Alphonse. He took a water bottle with.

They spend the next half hour having an all-out water fight. Winry sided with Al, the traitor. Ed complained to them about Mustang's smug face all through breakfast, stealing glances at Winry's amused blue eyes and poking Al in the flat stomach every time it looked like he was about to stop eating.

Ed never wanted that morning to end.

Like all good things in Ed's life, however, it wasn't meant to last, so he pulled on the first vaguely clean pair of pants and a t-shirt, grabbed his bag and ran.

He arrived, sweaty and panting, just as the bell signifying the start of second period pierced the air. He climbed the staircase, begging his aching leg and thighs to move, and looked over the notice board.

As he found the schedule and turned to go find his classmates, he suddenly found himself face to face with Mrs. Clemens. Her arms were crossed, and she was looking at him with an expression of genuine anger. On some level, he hadn't expected to ever see it, so was startled enough to allow her to take him by the shirt and drag him to the teachers' room.

He's only visited it once before. There were quite a few filing cabinets and a comfy-looking couch near the wall, but the woman pushed him into a stiff-backed chair facing a desk and sat across from him. Ed suddenly felt like he was about to be court-marshalled.

"You _disappeared_, Elric. None of your contact information is worth a cenz. I called your apartment building four times, and they told me you haven't been back since last Thursday! Where were you?!"

Ed opened his mouth to answer, but the look on Mrs. Clemens' face told him that she wasn't done.

"You missed a full week of classes, no warning, no explanation, not even a call to let me know you're still alive! Do you have any idea what kind of hot water you put me into? What in the world could be so important?"

He looked down to his lap. He really should have at least tried to call her, but the truth of the matter was, if he only had five minutes to use the phone, he was going to use them to talk to Winry or Al every time.

Now that her indignation was at least partially spent, Mrs. Clemens looked more tired than anything.

"I was at work. I'm really sorry for the trouble."

"For a whole week? Really?"

"Yea."

He was staring at his hands so he missed her reaction, but when she suddenly moved to take them into hers, her face was terribly serious.

"Edward, I'm not a useless piece of furniture, you know. I work here for a reason. My job is to look after you students, to serve as your support network. In other words, when something happens and you can't make it to school, you call me. If you're feeling unwell and need to leave, you talk to me. If you have any kind of problem that can interfere with your studies, you talk. To. Me. Even if it has nothing to do with school, when you're in trouble, I'm the one you should ask for help. That's what I'm here for."

She squeezed his hands, but didn't let go, even though Ed was sure his palms were cool and gross with drying sweat.

"The school hires people like me exactly because they want the students to have someone in the building that they can trust to keep their secrets and help them, no matter what."

She sighed and leaned closer. Her eyes were shining, and Ed suddenly realized that she had actually been worried. He felt even guiltier. That she looked a bit like Gracia wasn't helping either.

"Now, I'm not letting you out of my sight until you tell me what exactly happened. Spill."

Ed thought about it and realized he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He got up from the chair, ignoring her protests, checked the corridor (it was empty) and locked the door from the inside. Mrs. Clemens realized he wasn't trying to leave and watched him in confusion.

"I was at HQ. Have you seen the papers?"

She frowned.

"Are you talking about the furer?"

"Yea. It was a disaster."

"But what could you have done to help? You're just one boy…" Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm a lieutenant colonel. There was plenty of work for me." Ed was lying a little, of course. The only real work he'd had to do was stand by Mustang's side and be visible, but she didn't need to know that.

"You're a what?"

"A Lieutenant Colonel, as of three months ago."

She stared.

"How in the world…"

"That's not important."

"Oh, I think it is. Talk, Edward."

"Truth, alright, alright! How much do you know about the state alchemist program?" He started pacing.

"…Not much. Are you saying…"

"That I am one. Yea."

There was a pause. Mrs. Clemens's face was a mask of disbelief.

"I thought you just… made a mistake, enlisted for the money and wanted to leave before they get their claws into you, but… How long have you been in the military?"

"Four years now. Since I was twelve."

"Twelve…" her eyes closed, and then Ed saw it dawn. "Fullmetal? The youngest state alchemist in history? That's you?"

Ed nodded.

"God… I thought your name sounded familiar. I thought your father might have been someone famous…"

"My useless excuse for a father had a different last name!" Ed hissed though his teeth. Even after everything, mentioning Hohenheim was still bound to make him mad. Then he remembered who he was talking to. "Sorry. Just… can you not talk about him?"

"Did… did your father… do something? Was that why…"

It took Ed far too long to get her meaning, and then his face went red, from embarrassment and anger in equal measures.

"No, what the fu… I mean, why would you think that?" Many people had tried to talk to him about his father, but no one had accused the old fart of beating on him before. That was new.

"Well, I'm guessing you didn't sign up just for giggles. You must have needed to get away from something, or…"

"You're wrong." It wasn't about getting away. It was about _getting back_.

Mrs. Clemens made him sit and wait for a bit while she sorted out her thoughts.

"It's not that you don't want to tell me… You think you can't. Am I right?"

Ed didn't reply.

"Alright. You've been suspended for two days. If it were purely up to me, I would've made it longer. You look exhausted. Go home Edward. Get some rest. Come back tomorrow, I'll prepare your make-up package."

He nodded.

"Thank you."

"Edward… Please, just call me next time. I promise I'll hear you out."

Ed slept all through the evening, and then he and Winry were up all night doing their own… catching up. By the time Ed dragged himself out of bed again, it was early afternoon. Resisting the urge to laze about some more, he walked to the school and took his papers from the receptionist. The woman, whose name he still haven't bothered to ask, looked at him with disapproval, and Ed felt like a kid caught with a cookie before dinner. Frankly, it was hilarious.

When he got back, he stopped at the phone to dial HQ. Mustang was in a meeting with other generals, but Havoc updated him that, no, nobody else got killed yet, and no, there was no need for him to come back. He also asked him "how was school, kid", to which Ed replied with a very satisfied "fuck you" and hung up.

He finished the homework in one evening, and then cooked dinner for once. He was very proud when Al didn't leave a single bite on his plate. Winry even kissed him on the cheek. She never did that.

The next couple of weeks were mostly peaceful. Ed caught up on his sleep, did his laundry, went back to school, listened to the reprimands of his teachers with a poker face and pretended not to hear the whispers that followed him in the corridors. It seemed, he's become some sort of a class-skipping legend already. Ha, if only they knew. He'd actually skipped whole years.

His classmates, he discovered, were a different bag of crazy. The girl he complemented on the first day, Milly, took the seat to the right of him when he came back, and hissed at anyone who so much as looked at him funny. A darker-skinned kid, Joe (Ed couldn't remember his last name), asked him to come and play football after school, and even though Ed had had to decline 'cause playing football with a metal foot wasn't a great idea, he made sure not to be an asshole about it.

However, a few people had seemingly decided that Ed must be a delinquent, and started avoiding him. Ed was unbothered. It wasn't as if he was going to school to make friends, and even as a famous state alchemist, he was rather used to being treated like garbage, even by people he liked.

Then, there was Jayme Cougher. Turned out, the guy was something of a bully. He wasn't dumb enough to attack Ed outright, his military background apparently was an effective deterrent, but he was always trying to start shit. Making disparaging comments, getting in Ed's way, talking down to him and Milly, who glared and usually left in a huff if she could. Ed ignored the little shit with all the patience of a man who'd slummed it with a homunculus and two chimeras. He was actually kind of enjoying the look on the kid's face when he realized none of his taunts were having any affect.

Mrs. Clemens' art classes had finally started, and to her credit, the woman treated him no different from any other student, if you don't count frowning when all his art projects somehow grew inappropriate horns and spikes. Ed was having fun though.

He and Al were finally back to their training routine, now that Al's body had recovered enough. That gave Ed something to occupy his evenings. Ed also started on training himself out of the habit of clapping his hands at the first sign of danger. That could become a serious liability. He even visited the shooting range a few times on the weekends. He was getting pretty good with his aim, but had no illusions of ever coming close beating to Hawkeye's standing record.

Finally, at the start of October a call from the HQ came just as he was heading out to class. They've chosen a new furer. The name was unfamiliar. He had to attend the inauguration, of course.

"When is it?"

"Next Friday, ten a.m."

Mrs. Clemens nodded and made a note in her journal.

"Alright. I'll mark it as an excused absence. Thank you for informing me in advance, Edward."

She smiled at him, and Ed felt a bit better about the position he put her in. Just a bit though.

The day of the inauguration had, in the usual way of October days, dawned windy and wet. Ed put on the uniform and left for the HQ long before the ceremony was scheduled to start. When he go there, Mustang's team was already getting into position.

The ceremony was long, and involved a lot of standing at attention, which Ed probably failed miserably. Mustang kept covertly rolling his eyes at him, but since it was a very grand occasion, could not exactly leave his place to reprimand him. Ed had to hold back a smug grin a few times.

The new furer's name was Dunkel. He looked to be in his fifties. Ed figured he was one of the generals who never agreed to the homunculi's offer and was sent to some provincial HQ, since he's never met him before. The man gave a rousing speech that had sounded like "blablabla country blalala glory blabla justice" to Ed, so he still had no idea what to expect of the guy. By the end of it, none of Ed's worries became any lighter. There was, after all, no guarantee that the new furer would be any more agreeable then Grumman. Frankly, with how fast the man had grabbed the seat, Ed very much doubted it.

Afterwards, Ed lingered to speak with Mustang, and the bastard promised to try and carefully figure out Dunkel's intentions. Ed quietly decided not to show his face at HQ for as long as possible. Maybe if he disappeared for a bit, Mustang would slip the old man his resignation papers while his attention is elsewhere, and he'd never have to actually talk to him. A man can dream.

There was another spot of trouble waiting for Ed the next day at school. Mrs. Clemens caught his eye in the corridor after physics and Ed, sighing, shuffled over to her classroom.

"Is there any particular reason you've decided that you can pick and choose which classes you will attend and which you won't?" she asked with an exasperated kind of frown.

Ed had to think for a second before he remembered.

"Oh. Right. You mean physical education."

"Well? Explanation, please."

Ed was of two minds about it. He really didn't want to drag the woman any deeper into his shit then he had to. The only way around was through, though, so he decided a half-truth was in order.

"How do you go about getting out of PE? Forever, I mean? Or for a year would be enough, I suppose…"

The woman's was getting mad now.

"But why wouldn't you just go? I don't see what the problem is. You were in the army, don't tell me you've never had any kind of physical training before. It's just another class. It's not even that hard!"

"No, it probably isn't, but there are a few reasons why I'd really prefer to avoid it."

"Well? What are they?"

Ed closed the door. Mrs. Clemens, remembering their last closed-door-conversation, sighed and leaned on a desk.

"Don't tell me, more military secrets?"

"Welllll… not quite. First off, I'm pretty heavily scarred. I can usually hide it under my clothes, but in PE something might easily go wrong. I really don't want to have to explain my old wounds to a PE teacher, or anyone else."

"It can't be that bad, surely…" she looked at him, concerned again. "Is it?"

"I did say heavily. My right shoulder looks like it's been mauled by a pair of bears, and it's not even the worst one."

Mrs. Clemens stared at his shirt, obviously trying to imagine what that would look like. Ed rolled his eyes at her.

"And the second reason?" she finally asked.

"I have an automail leg."

After she got over her astonishment, more at the fact that he managed not to inform the school somehow then at his metal limb, Mrs. Clemens explained that there was, indeed, a process for avoiding PE, and it included getting a waiver from a clinic. She didn't knew what the exact requirements for it were, but seemed sure that having a prosthetic leg ("honestly, Edward!") would be quite sufficient.

Trouble was, the military hospital didn't hand out these kinds of waivers. Not the exact document needed for a school, at least. It was just another dumb piece of bureaucracy that Ed would have to deal with, somehow.

Ed really didn't want to go to a civilian doctor. He'd probably have to fill out all sorts of forms, get about a hundred shots and actually talk to them. He's never had to talk to a doctor in his life, but judging by Dr. Knox, they weren't the friendliest bunch. And did he mention they might try to give him shots? It was going to be pure torture, he just knew it.

When he complained about it to Winry at dinner, she just laughed at him. 

"Doctors can be perfectly nice, you idiot. Mom and dad were doctors, and they were very nice, weren't they? I'm a doctor too, in a sense…"

"Wait a second…" Ed almost choked. "Can you write me a waiver?"

"No, dumbass. I'm not a pediatrician, I'm an automail surgeon, and I don't even have my full license yet!"

"You don't? How come you were working alongside Granny then?"

"That was under her supervision. I'm not technically allowed to perform surgery, start to finish, without another qualified surgeon in the room."

"Huh. I didn't realize. What do you need to do to get a license?"

"I need to finish my automail engineer apprenticeship first, then I'll go to a medical university and get a surgeon's diploma. Then I'll need to perform a successful procedure with at least three qualified surgeons for witnesses, and I'm good."

For all that he's decided a long time ago that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Winry, Ed suddenly realized that, until that moment, he's had no idea what that would actually be like.

"So… You'll have to go back to Rush Valley at some point, then?" he asked, disappointed. Here he was, imagining that they will never have to part ways again.

"Yea. Not for very long, though," she added quickly. "I was almost done with it by the time everything went to hell. Maybe six month, at most."

That wasn't as bad as he was expecting.

"Ok. I suppose you can keep the ring, then."

"Whaaaaat?!"

When Al finally came home, he saw Winry sitting calmly at the table, drinking her tea, while Ed, still snickering, was at the sink, trying to get the sauce stains out of his white shirt. He shrugged at the usual mayhem and left them to it. Hopefully, Winry didn't just dump the whole pot on Ed's head this time. Cooking for himself would be a bother.


End file.
